


Myrrdin and Nimue

by DaronwyK



Series: What if... HP Drabbles & Short Stories [18]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Good Severus Snape, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Severus strays from the course Albus set for him, determined to end the war quickly and protect as many people as he can.





	Myrrdin and Nimue

**Author's Note:**

> One-Shot for now, but I may expand if there is enough interest.

 

o.o.O.o.o

 

Severus was lying low under explicit orders to remain off the radar while the floundering Ministry tried to apprehend him. It wouldn’t be long before the Dark Lord’s puppet was installed as Minister, and then his reign of terror would begin. The coming days looked bleak, even to man as jaded as he was. He’d taken a flat overlooking Knockturn Alley, over a disreputable pub owned by Enhardt Rosier. He would never sully himself by actually patronizing the disgusting establishment, but Severus was quite certain that no one would betray his presence.

 

A grime-encrusted window was his only view out into the world, and after nearly three weeks of solitude it had become a welcome distraction from his circumstances. There was something strangely entertaining watching the denizens of this shady place move from shop to shop, adhering strictly to their business in an effort to remain unnoticed. Almost like a muggle ant-farm, he thought uncharitably. As he sipped his tea, his coal-black eyes zeroed in on a cloaked figure. It was a witch of slender build, but her movements were erratic and stood out amongst the purposeful movers in the alley. She was trying just a little too hard to remain unnoticed, and as a result was drawing all kinds of dangerous attention. He picked out the hulking form of McNair stalking the girl. Something about the witch was tickling the back of his mind, and then it clicked. Tossing his teacup onto the sideboard and grabbing his cloak, Severus hurriedly exited the flat and stole down the rickety steps into the dingy alley.

 

Merlin save him from idiotic, hard-headed, reckless Gryffindors! Perhaps this was some kind of karmic punishment for all the evils he’d committed, doomed forever to save baby lions from the trouble they always seemed to find for themselves. He kept to the shadows, moving parallel to the teenaged witch. He had to avoid not just her notice, but that of McNair, and now Edmund Goyle. The only reason they hadn’t yet stunned the girl was that they weren’t entirely certain who she was. He palmed the package of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and timed his throw just right. The blackness engulfed the street and Severus darted out, grasping the witch tightly to his chest and dragging her into the next alley. He felt the zing of curses fly past them a second before the bone-crushing sensation of apparition dragged them to safety.

 

o.o.O.o.o

 

Hermione had been picking her way through Knockturn Alley, knowing just how stupid it was to risk being seen, but also knowing that certain things she needed could only be found there. She’d worn her nicest black robes, the hood pulled down to obscure her face. Many of the other patrons of the alley seemed to employ the same tactic, and she was guardedly hopeful that she could get to the handful of shops she needed to before she drew any unwanted attention. An itch between her shoulder blades alerted her to the wizard following her. She tried to pretend like she didn’t notice the large man shadowing her steps, but unbidden her feet sped up.

 

A furtive look over her shoulder told her that there were now two men following her. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribcage, and she desperately looked around for a place to duck out of the way and apparate. Just as she was about to panic and apparate away in the middle of the street, everything went black. Hands roughly grabbed her arms, keeping her from reaching for her wand and Hermione was hauled into an alcove. Then they were apparating away.

 

The horrendous crushing sensation released her and Hermione’s heart nearly stopped as she looked up into the face of a murderer. She was released so suddenly that she fell backwards onto the grass, and gaped up at him. “Professor?”

 

“Brightest witch of her age indeed…how could you be so utterly careless?” he snarled. “What possessed you to go to Knockturn Alley of all places? There are easier ways to come to the attention of the Death Eaters, Miss Granger, I assure you. Do you even understand just how much trouble you were actually in?” Severus thundered.

 

Clambering to her feet and brushing the dirt off her robes, Hermione drew her wand…only to have it promptly taken from her. He’d reacted faster than she’d been able to track, and now she was wandless. Bloody brilliant. “Are you going to hand me over to You-Know-Who then?” she asked, her voice quavering.

 

“You do realize it’s customary to thank someone for saving your life, however little you seem to value it,” he said drily, but paused and let out a resigned sigh. “I have no plans to hand you over to anyone, but you’d best start explaining yourself and quickly. I am not a man of infinite patience.” The last words were fairly growled as he pocketed her wand.

 

“I…,” she started and then paused, swallowing and trying to gather her wits. “There were things I needed, and I couldn’t get them in the main alley. I know what’s coming, and I know that I need to make sure that we’re prepared.” She met his eyes bravely. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

“We? Of course, Potter. Risking your neck and other things, for him,” he sneered. “If you were half as smart as I know you are, you’d get as far away from that boy as possible. He’ll be the end of you.” There was a sadness in his tone.

 

“Someone has to help him, I can’t leave him with just Ron for help. I might as well gift-wrap him for V…” She suddenly gagged, a harsh silencing spell striking her with the tiniest flick of Snape’s wand.

 

“Do. Not. Say. It,” Severus ground out. “There is a reason people fear speaking his name Miss Granger, and it has nothing to do with cowardice. He used to have a Taboo on his name, merely whispering it could bring the Death Eaters down around your ears.” He stalked around her, pleased when he saw her pale dramatically. “He would be a fool to not employ the same tactic again, particularly because your foolish friend bandies his name about for sport.” He released the spell with a flicking motion.

 

Hermione massaged her throat, and nodded. “The Headmaster gave him a job to do, and he won’t go to anyone else for help. I can’t abandon him, I just can’t,” she said quietly.

 

Severus nodded and offered her wand back, handle first. “I suggest you look for what you need elsewhere, Miss Granger. They will be on alert in Knockturn Alley now.”

 

“Some of the things I need for my emergency bag aren’t exactly…legal. I don’t where else to get them.” There was a pleading tone in her voice that Hermione wasn’t terribly proud of, but she knew that if Professor Snape really was the horrible murderer that everyone seemed to think he was, there was no way he’d have rescued her today.

 

Cold, calculating eyes watched her for a long moment, studying her expression. “You want my help? After all I’ve done, you still believe I’m on your side?” he sounded utterly disbelieving.

 

“If you were the wizard Harry thinks you are, you’d either have left me to those men in the Alley or taken me to You-Know-Who yourself,” she whispered. “Every time we’ve thought the worst about you, we’ve been wrong. Are we wrong again?”

 

Severus was utterly dumbfounded. The silence stretched for a long moment, before he finally answered her. “I may not be a good man Miss Granger, but I am not what they think.” It was the closest he would ever get to admitting the truth, but in that moment he needed someone in this world to know that he was not a monster, regardless of the trouble that it could cause. That this schoolgirl, not even out of her NEWTS, had puzzled out something not even the Dark Lord had, simply astounded him.

 

“Will you help me?” she asked again.

 

“Yes, if only to keep you from seeking out more trouble.” He allowed the corner of his mouth to lift, gracing her with the tiniest of smiles. Hope could be fatal in his line of work, but just for today he’d indulge in it. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay tonight?” He asked, sharp eyes taking in the slight greasiness of her hair where she’d tugged it back into a braid. He saw the hesitation on her face. “Miss Granger, take my hand…I believe we need to have a very long talk about things and I refuse to do so standing out here in the middle of a field.” The petite witch reached out and firmly grasped his offered hand, and he gave her a very small smile, trying to reassure her.

 

He apparated them to a small muggle flat he maintained as a secondary bolt-hole. He’d bought it a few scant weeks after the Dark Lord’s return, a truly last resort in case he needed to run. Bringing the girl here was reckless, but no one would find them here. He released her hand. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” He said and went over to the kitchen, filling up the kettle and putting it on the hob.

 

“Where are we?” she asked as she removed her robe and sat down on the couch.

 

“A safe place,” he said simply. “Now, tell me what you’ve been up to since the Headmaster’s funeral?” Severus came out and took a seat in the armchair.

 

“The Ministry won’t last long now, I knew my parents wouldn’t be safe once that happened. I used a memory charm to remove all recollection of me from their minds, and rewrote who they thought they were. They’re in Australia by now, and they have no idea that I even exist.” She whispered. “Everything I own is in here.” She showed him her little beaded bag.

 

“An undetectable extension charm?” he asked, unwilling to hide how impressed he was.

 

She nodded. “I’ve been staying in muggle hotels here and there, gathering anything I can think of for when we have to go on the run. I’m supposed to be at the Burrow by July 20th, to help with preparations to move Harry from the Dursley’s.” She whispered.

 

“You can stay here tonight, and I will get what I can from my own stores for you. I imagine I have many things that you will find useful. What is this job that Albus gave Potter?” He asked, seeing her wince a little.

 

“I…” She trailed off.

 

“I cannot help you, if I don’t know what you’re planning. I am one of the best Occlumens alive, anything you tell me will remain secret. I give you my word.” He pinned the girl with a look.

 

Hermione bit her bottom lip. “Do you know what a Horcrux is, Professor?” she asked quietly.

 

Severus closed his eyes and the enormity of Potter’s task hit him. “Albus had hinted, but he never outright told me.”

 

“Professor Dumbledore told Harry that he thinks there were six in total. The diary in our second year was one, and last summer the Headmaster found and destroyed a ring that he believed was one as well. He’d taken Harry to retrieve a third the night h-he died.” She swallowed. “But it was a fake. Someone with the initials RAB had taken the actual Horcrux and replaced it with a fake. Beyond those, we don’t know what else we’re even looking for, or where they might be hidden.”

 

Severus nodded quietly, knowing exactly who RAB was. “Regulus Arcturis Black,” he said quietly. “He was the mutt’s younger brother. If he took the Horcrux then there are ways to discover what he did with it.”

 

Hermione smiled then, a little bit of hope filling her as the kettle began screaming in the kitchen.

 

“What do you take in your tea, Miss Granger?” Severus asked getting up to go and brew it, his mind circling around Albus’ rather insane plan. Hoping that three teenagers, with only one reasonable brain between them, could find and destroy four horcruxes on their own was certifiably crazy. It nearly ensured the Dark Lord’s victory, or at least an extended reign of terror. That was unacceptable in his mind.

 

“Just milk please,” she said.

 

Severus brought the tea out a few moments later.

 

“Can you tell me why you killed him?” she asked quietly after a long period of silence.

 

Severus considered, watching as she consumed her drink. “He was dying, Miss Granger. The ring he encountered in the summer carried a horrible curse, and while I was able to contain the curse to his hand…I could not reverse the damage. He wanted his death to serve a purpose, and with me casting the final blow my loyalty would be beyond question.” He sighed.

 

“But he forced you to murder him…” She looked horrified and then confused as she wavered a little. 

 

“My soul has been damaged for a very long time, Miss Granger. He didn’t think one more death would matter.” He said, reaching out and catching her tea cup before it could fall. “Don’t panic, I’m not going to harm you.” He said, easing her back onto the couch as the potion started to work. Her pupils were blown wide. The heavy sedative worked quickly, and rendered her not quite unconscious but near it.

 

“Forgive me, Miss Granger…but I fear that the Headmaster’s plans can lead only to suffering and death.” He raised his wand and stared deeply into her eyes. “Legilimens.” He said and slipped into her thoughts.

 

Her mind was beautifully ordered, and he had little trouble stealing through her thoughts and memories. He lingered on her interactions with Potter and Weasley, rather surprised that there was nothing romantic between her and Potter. He soaked it all in, and committed everything to memory. It took hours of plundering her mind before he had everything he needed. He stood and walked across the room, going to the false panel in the wall where he hid an expansive potions kit.

 

Albus had always discounted Miss Granger, never valuing the brilliant muggle-born girl as highly as Severus thought he should. Albus could wax eloquent about the fine virtues of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter…but praise for the brains of the so-called Golden Trio had always been hesitantly offered. Severus suspected that was because Albus knew the dangers of the girl’s intelligence, as well as its potential benefits to Potter.

 

“Brilliance is far easier to corrupt than mediocrity,” he whispered softly into the darkened room, the Dark Lord’s words floating up from his memory. Yes, the truly brilliant were often drawn to the darkness, and he had little doubt that without Potter and Weasley’s friendship the young witch would have followed a path somewhat similar to his own. He’d seen her in those first two months of her first year, alone and unwanted, shunned by her house and ridiculed for her talent. There were uncomfortable parallels with his own past there. Her circle was frighteningly small, and if she were ever to lose Potter, he had no illusions that her friendship with the Weasley boy would continue. No, she would be left adrift.

 

‘And she will lose him.’ Severus sighed, the terrible truth hitting him hard. Potter would not survive the war, no matter which side won. Potter had to die for the Dark Lord to meet his end, and where did that leave the brilliant, kind-hearted Miss Granger?

 

He opened his potions case, and withdrew a slender purple crystal phial. Nimue’s Tears. He looked over to the young witch sleeping so trustingly there. It was a desperate idea, but it would ensure the girl’s safety and she had asked him to help her. He could reject Albus’ plan and spin one of his own, take the girl’s place at Potter’s side, and ensure things happened as they needed to. When everything was over, he could wake her from her magical sleep and confess what he had done. She would never forgive him, but at least she would live…and he could face his fate knowing that he’d at least spared her from months of hardship and death.

 

He unstoppered the vial and approached, his feet making no noise as they cross the floor. He carefully tipped the potion over her lips, her tongue reflexively darting out to taste it. He put the stopper back in and returned the potion to his case. A single drop was all it took; Nimue’s Tears would place its victim into an unending, magical sleep. Only an obscure potion called Myrrdin’s Joy would wake her now.

 

He made himself some more tea and sat down to write four very important letters. He had no idea if the recipients would heed him, but it would give them warning and perhaps allow them to spread word and get vulnerable students into hiding. He knew Pomona at least kept a tight network with her former badgers, much like he did with his snakes. He had no idea if Minerva and Fillius had a similar relationship with their houses, but he prayed that they did.

 

He checked the clock as he sealed the last letter, and mentally groaned. It was nearly midnight, and there was still so very much to do. He apparated back to the flat he’d been staying in, and sent the letters with his tattered looking, one-eyed owl. He grabbed an empty potions vial and filled it with his blood before duplicating it several times over. He judiciously scorched the floor and walls with controlled spell fire, broke some of the meager furniture and then applied the blood in telling patterns. There was enough blood in the room to indicate death, and he prayed the Dark Lord bought it. There was a little twist of glee as he produced a slender vial from his robes, dripping a few random drops of blood near the doorway. It was Dolohov’s blood, and he hoped the Dark Lord merely killed the man.

 

He took any relevant books he felt his might need and left with a crack, hopefully his death was successfully staged and no one would look terribly hard.

 

o.o.O.o.o

 

In the darkness before dawn, Severus apparated with the unconscious girl into the heart of the Forbidden Forest. No sane witch or wizard would dare tread so deeply alone, but he knew where he needed to take her. A towering, gnarled, ancient oak stood in the center of a clearing, some strange and ancient magic protecting it from encroachment by the tangled forest. He knelt before the tree and felt a wash of magic settle over him, a touch from one of Founders of Hogwarts. This oak had been planted by Salazar Slytherin, one of four sentinel trees. Called upon by someone worthy, they could offer protection.

 

He laid Miss Granger onto the ground between some of the massive roots. The roots seemed to rise up out the ground twisting together to create a bed, and a shimmering bubble of light encased the sleeping witch. The tree would guard her, for as long as she needed its protection.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered to the ancient oak, and after one last look at his former student, he left the clearing. He had a handful of hairs, a sealed vial of her blood, and all the knowledge he required to attempt to impersonate her long enough to end this. While the prospect of being in a teenaged witch’s body for months on end made him want cringe, he was reasonably certain with his experience and Dark Arts expertise, they could end the war in a few short months. The things he did for his students…

 

 


End file.
